


What was that, baby girl?

by waywardbaby



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Both POVs, Explicit Language, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, Oral Sex, Possessive Dean Winchester, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardbaby/pseuds/waywardbaby
Summary: Sneaking out can be good





	What was that, baby girl?

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble. Clearly, it isn’t. Anyhoo, enjoy!

\------------------------------------------------------------------  
Reader’s POV

The door of my bedroom creaked open as I slowly dare to take a peak outside. Damn, I meant to have used some wd on the hinges but I had just never got round to it. My head is scanning the long, winding corridor for any movement, my ears trying to catch even the slightest sound. Everything was very, very quiet. That meant that the boys must have been asleep. I get back inside, this time not closing the door, for fear of another creak and I take one last look in my reflection in the mirror.  
Yes, I looked more than presentable. Completely different from the every day look I sported in the bunker and during hunts. The jeans and flannel shirt were replaced by a tight, black dress that was hugging my body showing off the curves of my breasts and the roundness of my ass. It’s short, barely covering my globes and there’s actually no back to it.  
Gone are the biker boots which were almost welded to my feet. In their place I was going to wear a pair of obscenely, high-heeled, red, strappy sandals.  
I had said goodbye to the messy bun that always adorned the top of my head, keeping my hair out of the way and out of my eyes. My hair is now down, falling in soft curls down my back, almost completely covering it, as it almost reaches my ass.  
My face perfectly made up, thanks to YouTube tutorials and a small stash of cosmetics that I kept in the bathroom cabinet and rarely used anymore. Smokey eyes, blushed cheeks and the reddest shade of lipstick.  
Yes!! I was definitely more than presentable. But what really messed with my mood a little was the fact that I had to go sneaking out of the bunker like I was a teenager. In one of the last supply runs I had met a very handsome young man. I had also managed to get dancing with him one of the nights that Sam and Dean had been away on a hunt. And I had loved every second of it. Having two strong arms around me , holding me tight. Pressing and grinding against me. That night I had realized that it was ages since the last time I’d been with a man.  
And how could I ? Between hunts, traveling, researching and practically having the gigantic brothers with me all the time. Where would I get the time and who in their right mind approach you? Both boys felt very protective of me. They believed they owed it to my parents who had been dead for over two years now. But what they failed to see was that I was not a little girl. I was almost twenty three and I was craving to be treated as a woman and not as a hunting partner. A buddy. A sport. But every time I had even mentioned the need to go out without them, Dean would throw me a menacing look which literally made me freeze to your spot.  
Chuck! You hated that man. All controlling! All demanding to have things done his way and his way alone!!  
“Shut up!! You don’t hate him!” my brain whispered to me as I bent down to take my sandals in my hands. “You would gladly take the older Winchester over any other man. And when we say “take” we mean TAKE” my brain kept going. But I never told him, not only because there was no indication from his part that he was interested in a relationship and I deep down believed that maybe things would feel awkward if the two of us ever got together. But the fact that he wouldn’t let me have any kind of relationship with anybody else, drove me up the wall.  
So, here I am, trying to sneak out of the bunker like a fucking teenager. Sandals in hand, I slide through the half opened door and make my way down the corridor praying that I will reach the exit without making any noise. So far so good. The bunker is all quiet, and the lights are turned down low, illuminating the way that would get me closer to my freedom. As I pass outside the kitchen a deep, clear “Uhem” stops me dead in my tracks and I turn my head slowly towards the direction of the sound. Dean is sitting in the far corner of the room, almost concealed in the shadows. His chair is pushed a bit back, his legs are propped on the table and he’s looking at me as he’s now sipping his beer. “Holy, fuck! You’re so busted!” my brain is now almost shouting at me.  
“Where are you going, Y/N? Or should I say, where are you sneaking off to?” he questions, his voice low, almost a whisper. All of a sudden I feel like I’m completely fed up with this. Him questioning me, monitoring my every move, not allowing me to actually live. And all because of a stupid obligation that only exists in his brain. So, I straighten my posture, turn around so I’m completely facing him and looking at him, dead in the eyes, I reply : “Out!”  
His head slowly turns to the right and his eyebrows rise, resembling a man who knew what he had heard but didn’t really want to believe it. “What was that, baby girl?”  
image  
That is definitely the last straw. I place my sandals on the floor and slip my feet in them, gaining a few inches, both in height and confidence and step into the kitchen but not very close to where he’s sitting.  
“I said, I’m going out! I have a date with someone. We’re going to go dancing and have fun and then who knows?? Maybe even have some more fun afterwards!” I smirk a little surprised at myself for being that bold.

Dean’s POV

This is my third beer and my mind is still stuck on the same thought. Her. When have these thoughts begun seeping into my brain, I can’t remember. But with each passing day, she’s all I can think about. I wake up and I picture her still lying in her bed, her body barely covered by her sleeping tee and boy shorts.  
We have lunch and I can’t stop staring at her mouth. The way she licks her fingers when she likes the food, her tongue swirling around the pads. I imagine her lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me, licking along my shaft. Chuck!! I know I shouldn’t be feeling like that. Those images shouldn’t form in my head. But I can’t help it.  
When I hear her voice, talking to Sam about research or even humming a song as she goes about her chores. I only wish I heard her scream my name as my dick is buried deep in her. Fucking her to oblivion. Staining her with my cum so that she will never belong to anybody else.  
When we go out to bars to celebrate a successful hunt or to unwind after a busy day, I want to sucker punch every sleaze ball that dares look at her. I want to grab her and kiss her senseless right there so that everybody will know that she belongs to me. That I’m the only one who is allowed to touch her, feel her!!  
But I can’t do any of those things. Because she’s not mine. I know that she feels I’m controlling and I don’t let her out of my sights because of her dead parents and my promise to them. And it may have been like that at the beginning. But not anymore. The only reason I’m like that is because I’m fucking jealous. Jealous of the thought that she may meet someone. That her lips will touch somebody else’s. That hands that are not mine will caress her body and make love to her.  
I know that the other night, when me and Sam had been on that hunt she had met up with someone at a bar. I got a pic of her, sent by the bartender who’s a friend of mine. I saw that douche grinding against her, having his filthy hands around her waist, sucking on her neck. And the look on her face. All flustered. Her eyes half closed, her hands wrapped around his head. I could just rip his throat out with my teeth. My phone had hit the wall so hard that night. I told Sam I’d lost it.  
What’s that creaking sound? And I swear I can hear footsteps. And… holy fuck!! What is she doing? Where is she going? And for all that’s holy, what is she wearing??!!  
I let out a small “Uhem” that glues her to her spot and has her turn towards me. When I ask her where she’s going she simply states “out” and that has my blood boil in zero seconds. I want to get off my spot, grab her and teach her a lesson about sneaking out and being so sassy. I picture her bent over the table, her ass in the air as the first red imprints of my hands on her ass become visible.  
I want to give her a chance to change her mind. To go back to her room. Get out of that skimpy little thing she’s wearing. But when I ask her what that thing she had just said was, she just slipped her feet in those “fuck me” red sandals and walked toward me, telling me that she was going dancing with that douche most probably.  
Has she always been so beautiful? So hot? I’m looking at her as she’s approaching. Her body barely covered by that little black dress that stops right at her ass. Her hair cascading down her back. I want to just grab a fistful and crash her lips to mine. Bite her, suck on the bottom one, feel her moan against my mouth. And those shoes. I wish I could just fuck her as she’s only in those. Feel the heels dig against my back as I pound inside her.

Reader’s POV.

I think I may have oredone it here but it’s too late to back up or back down. He’s raking me, top to bottom, his eyes lingering on certain parts of me. My hair, my lips, my breasts, my thighs right where the dress stops, my feet. And then up again. He lowers his feet off the table and leaning on his arms warns me: “And who told you you’re allowed to do that, baby girl? Don’t you know that as long as I’m responsible for you, you’re gonna play by my rules?”  
image  
What the fuck is he talking about? What rules? A small chuckle escapes my lips as I toss my hair off my shoulders and as defiantly as I can, I answer back : “And what if I don’t, dad?” I see his fingers curl around the edge of the table, his knuckles going white from the pressure he’s applying there. “What are you gonna do? Lock me up? Punish me?” No sooner have the words left my mouth, I see him lunge over the table like an animal that had been caged and now set free. He lands in front of me and I find myself staring into his chest that is rising and falling in quick successions. Even in my high heels, I’m still short. He’s towering over me, 6’2” of pure muscle. Of pure male. I see his fists as they’re clenched at his sides. I feel his breath above my head.  
“Tell me you weren’t sneaking off to meet with that sleaze ball you met the other night, baby girl” he hisses through gritted teeth.  
How the hell had he found out? “And what if I was?” I dare him. “You’re not my daddy, Dean! You can’t forbid me to go out. And I’m definitely NOT your baby girl!” I continue as my eyes slowly rise to meet his scorching gaze. “Don’t push me, Y/N! Go back to your room, change out of that skimpy thing and we can both let this go!” he whispers. But I’ve reached a point where I don’t care about anything he says. I want to frustrate him the way he’s been frustrating me and making me angry all this time. “And what if I don’t? What if I turn around, walk out that door and meet that douche as you called him? What’s wrong with wanting to feel a man’s touch? Wanting to be praised? Adored?” I say, and watch his eyes turn almost black with anger. And that’s when I add my last word. “Fucked?”  
He snapped.  
He grabs my hair and bending his head, crashes his lips on mine. His kiss is angry, hot, needy. He’s biting me, sending shots of pain down my body right between my legs. My mouth opens and something between a moan and a curse escapes them as his tongue licks along mine, pushing, probing. He keeps abusing my lips and tagging at my hair until we both need to come up for air. “Is that what you want?” he growls, as soon as his mouth is off mine. “You want to be fucked? TELL ME!” He shouts and gives my hair one last tag.  
“Yes! YES! That’s what I want. Are you happy? There! I said it. I’m a slut that wants to be fucked hard. That needs her pussy pounded” I shout at the top of my lungs.  
The next thing I feel is his hands grabbing my shoulders and pushing me towards the kitchen table. In a matter of seconds, I’m bent over it, my dress is pooled around my waist and I feel his fingers tangle in my thong. A sharp tug shreds the flimsy material into nothing and his hand lands hard on my ass. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’re gonna get. But not by some douchy, half drunk idiot in a bar restroom” he whispers as he’s bent over me, licking and biting the shell of my ear. “You’re gonna be fucked by someone who’s gonna fill you up and have you throbbing for days”  
Another hard smack on the other globe the pushes me a little further up the table. “Tell me you want it!” Another smack, harder than the previous two. I can feel my ass burning but before I get the chance to answer here comes another one. “Tell. Me!” He growls again.  
“I want it!! Fuck Dean, yes!! I want it so much!!”  
His left hand is on the small of my back, pushing me down, keeping me bent over the table while his right hand smacks my pussy and two of his fingers sink inside me. It’s not slow. It’s not careful. It’s raw! Angry! Primal! He pumps them in and out fast and hard and the only thing I can do is say “fuck, fuck, fuck” over and over again. “You like that, don’t you?” He’s not really asking. He just wants to hear me admit it. “You like having my fingers fuck into your pussy? I know you do!” his voice is barely registering in your ears as you’re starting to slip into oblivion. “I bet you wanna cum all over them! Don’t you, baby girl?” he continues  
“Fuck you Dean!” I shout as I fall off the edge and drift into one of the most intense orgasms of my life. He feels me shake but instead of stopping, he just pulls his fingers out and instantly I feel his lips sealing around my pussy and his thumb rubbing my clit. He’s sucking and lapping at my entrance, drinking me as his thumb goes even faster until a second orgasm hits before the first one is over. My legs can no longer support me and I start slipping off the table. That’s when he releases my pussy and gets up. “What’s wrong, baby girl? Too much for you?” he teases. “I hope not, ‘cause I’ve only got started”  
He snakes his arm around my waist and turns me around, helping me lie on the table. His hand tugs at the straps of my dress and he licks his lips as he sees that I’m not wearing a bra. “Perfect!” he mumbles to no one but himself. He bends over me and sucks at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He’s sucking hard adding his teeth, marking my skin, my body. Staking a claim for all others to see. I wrap my arms around him, pushing him even lower until his lips ghost over my nipple. He flattens his tongue and licks around it. Sucking. Biting. Licking. And repeat. Again and again and again. This is such an exquisite form of torture. I moan and writhe and arch my back as his fingers find their way to my pussy again, gathering the slick that has been dripping out of me. He coats his fingers with it and then raising his hand my mouth he commands : “Taste this, baby girl! Feel how hard you’ve cum just by my fingers and my tongue. Tell me that the douchey guy you were gonna meet could do this to you!”  
My lips seal around his fingers, licking them clean as my eyes never leave his. When they’re clean of my juices, I answer his question : “Maybe he could. Maybe he couldn’t. But all that matters now, is that it’s YOUR fingers that have made me cum. YOUR mouth has given me two orgasms and I bet that YOUR cock is gonna give me another one!”  
“You’ll be the death of me, baby girl!” he says as his hand flies to his jeans. He unbuttons them and lowers them just enough so his cock spring free. He gives himself a couple of pumps and buries the head in my pussy. He stays there only for a second, looking down at me. “Give it to me!” I growl and that earns me a smirk as he pushes himself all the way to the hilt. He pulls out and then in again, slowly so I can adjust to his size. I feel him stretching me, filling me completely, hitting me deep inside. “Faster!” I urge him, as I wrap my legs around his waist. “Harder!”  
He picks up his pace. His thrusts become faster, the grip on my thighs tighter. My back hurts as it’s rubbed against the wood of the table but I don’t care. I love every scrape I’m gonna have because of this man’s cock hitting inside me . Every bruise of his fingers. Every red mark of his hands. Every bite of his teeth. He bends over me, brushing my hair off my face and whispers in my ear : “I need you to look at me when you cum, baby girl. I want to see every little thing, every little emotion, every little tick as I fuck you through your orgasm! I want to hear you scream my name as you fall off the edge, as I fill you up with my cum! Can you do that?”  
“Yes. Yes I can. And I’m so close. I’m gonna cum now!” I moan and I clench around him, my eyes clamming shut. I feel his hand squeezing my neck and he repeats : “Look at me!”  
I open my eyes and look straight into his. They’re dark and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so wild, so feral before. His thrusts falter and I know that he is close too. “Come on Dean! Give me everything you’ve got! Make me feel you! Cum!”  
“Are you mine?” he asks.  
“I could never be anybody else’s now! You’ve stained my skin and marked my body! I am yours!” I whisper and that’s when I feel him. He is buried deep inside me and I feel every drop of his cum as it is being released. He stills, gripping my thigh even harder and I hear him repeat “This feels so good! You feel so good baby girl!”  
He collapses on top of me, slowly riding out his orgasm as I ride out mine.  
We lose track of time but at some point he eases out of me and pulls up his underwear and jeans. He then scoops me up into his arms and making his way towards his room I hear him say softly : “Consider what happened a warning for the next time you try to sneak out, baby girl. And don’t even think about wearing this dress in public. EVER!”


End file.
